Fiction of the PopTart's Brown Sugar Cinnamon Box
by the michael
Summary: This is a fiction based off of the box of a brown cinnamon sugar poptart


11

Michael Clark

Period 1

March 28, 2006

Fiction of a Box

It was a quite day, and nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Kellogg was riding the bus home from school as he always had, sitting in his assigned seat just as the day before. But Kellogg could feel that something was wrong. His instincts yelled out saying that not everything was as it seemed.

Kellogg shook the feeling off without thinking twice. Kellogg reasoned that his mind was playing games on him. The bus finally pulled to his stop, and he departed from the front of the bus off to his driveway followed by his brother, Vetamin, who had sat in the back of the bus. Vetamin was not a particularly nice big brother, in fact, Kellogg and his brother did not get along so well. It was not that Kellogg disagreed with him, but simply that Vetamin did not like Kellogg, and being the older child allowed him to be a bully.

As Kellogg started up the driveway to his house he felt a sudden and hard thump on the back of his head, and he fell onto the concrete.

"What's wrong Kellogg, are you being a baby?" Ridiculed Vetamin.

Kellogg longed to stand up and shout at his brother, but he didn't. Kellogg slowly tried to regain his strength and began to stand up.

"Oh, I'm sorry Kellogg, why don't you just go cry?" Kellogg's brother went on.

Vetamin continued up the driveway and into the house. Kellogg followed behind. He could feel the blood oozing down his spine from the injury to his head. After he walked in the door he proceeded to his room. Finally he could be alone. He pulled out his homework and began to solve the geometric mean of the radii of two circles. The phone began to ring. Kellogg had no interest in the ringing phone; it was probably his mother or someone calling for Vetamin. Kellogg heard the ringing come to an abrupt stop and could lightly hear his brother's voice. He heard his brother's footsteps come up the stairs, and surprisingly toward his room. The door burst open and there stood Vetamin.

"Hey dweeb, it's for you."

"Who is it?" Kellogg enquired.

"I don't know! It's one of your dork friends, just take it."

Kellogg proceeded to Vetamin and took the phone from his hand, at which point Vetamin proceeded down the hall to his room.

"Hello," Kellogg started.

"Hey! How are you doing?" Asked the female voice on the phone.

"Fine thanks," responded Kellogg, "may I ask who this is?"

"Oh, sorry." She responded. "This is Julie."

Kellogg felt nervousness course through his veins. Kellogg had friends at school, but of all of these friends he favored Julie. She was one of the only girls he liked who he had a chance of dating.

"So," responded Kellogg, "What's up?"

"Nothing much," said Julie, "listen, I know this is really short notice but do you think I could come over tonight and you could help me with the math homework?"

"Sure!" Responded Kellogg. "Well, I mean, I'll half to check first."

"O.K. My sister has a game and your house happens to be on the way. I'll see you around six then?" added Julie

"Yea, sure, fine, o.k." Kellogg stumbled over his words. "I'll call if anything is wrong, though I don't think anything will be."

"Sounds good, I'll see ya' then! Bye."

Julie hung up the phone. I sounded like a complete idiot thought Kellogg. It was a good thing that Kellogg was a generally organized person unlike his brother. Whenever Vetamin would have someone over he always had so much to clean before they came over. On the contrary, Kellogg's room was neat with only one or two things out of order so he had very little to correct.

The hours until six slowly passed slowly. Kellogg passed the time by watching television. Nothing interesting was on, as usual, so he was more day dreaming than actually paying attention to the program.

Finally six came, and not more than three minutes after Kellogg heard a knock. Kellogg hurriedly opened the door, and let Julie in. After small conversation they headed up the stairs to his room. As they walked through the hall, Julie observed a very odd painting.

"What an odd painting." Julie remarked.

"I know," responded Kellogg. "My mother received it from a man for free, so we just hung it up."

The painting was of cinnamon sticks that were alive and moving. It looked as if the majority of cinnamon sticks in the painting were in poverty, for they were dreary looking and appeared dirty. Kellogg and Julie stood, observing the painting.

"What's this line at the bottom of the painting?" asked Julie.

"I don't know, I've never really paid any attention to this old painting." Responded Kellogg.

Oddly enough, there was one single sentence at the bottom of the painting. Kellogg was surprised he had never noticed it before; Kellogg had always been very observant.

Kellogg and Julie both looked at the painting and read, "One door opens, another shuts; let this portal open to us."

Suddenly, the room melted into blue and white. Kellogg and Julie could still see each other but the room was completely gone. The sensation of free fall was very present to both of them. They looked around trying to find away to keep from falling.

All of a sudden the falling stopped. Julie and Kellogg were on the muddy ground before they realized where they were. As they slowly got up looked around to observe a most unusual scene; they were literally in the painting, only the cinnamon sticks were alive and moving. Kellogg and Julie looked around for an explanation.

"Where are we?" asked Julie

"I have no idea." Responded Kellogg. "I'll go ask that guy, well, cinnamon stick where we are."

Kellogg proceeded to the nearest cinnamon stick. He hesitantly spoke, hoping that the cinnamon stick would understand him.

"Excuse me sure, but where are we?"

"You," responded the cinnamon stick, "your one of those foreigners! You're not supposed to be here! Don't you know if your found as an immigrant Lord Cinnamon Roll will have you killed!" responded the cinnamon stick.

"Killed!" exclaimed Kellogg.

"I've already stayed and talked to much. You immigrants be on your way." Spoke the cinnamon stick.

"Sir," said Kellogg, "We are only teenagers; we have no place to stay."

"I can't believe I'm doing this, but come with me" responded the cinnamon stick.

The cinnamon stick covertly led them around the streets. Everywhere Kellogg, Julie, and the cinnamon stick went they were given odd looks. Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes of walking, they reached the cinnamon stick's house, who they now knew as Maneral.

Maneral led Kellogg and Julie into a descent living space. The cinnamon stick world seemed very primitive; all of the houses were built from logs and they had fire to keep the houses warm. Once inside the house they noticed Maneral's wife, whose name was Frost.

"Immigrants!" exclaimed Frost. "Maneral, you could have warned me. Not that I wish they would leave, you know I am for the revolt, but immigrants?"

"Frost," responded Maneral, "They are only children. I was skeptical about them to but we both wish to bring Lord Cinnamon Roll down. Why not protest this way?"

Kellogg bravely interrupted, "Lord Cinnamon Roll? That's the second time I've heard his name yet I know nothing about him."

"Well, "began Mineral, "Lord Cinnamon Roll is a very evil being. You see, the cinnamon stick community used to live in this city undisturbed. We traded with the other parts of the world without problem. We never fought wars and lived in peace. Then, nearly ten years ago, the evil Cinnamon Roll entered our town. His guards are Apple Cinnaguards and his police are French Toastifers. Ever since his arrival he has ceased control through force. Now he is slowly killing all of the cinnamon sticks to produce a product name 'Pop-Tarts.' No one knows who he trades with or how he gets them there, but we know that we are killed to produce 'Pop-Tarts.' The problem is no one knows how to stand up to Lord Cinnamon Roll. However, I have a plan. Now that you are here, we can use you to get to Lord Cinnamon Roll. Once inside the palace, all you must do is somehow murder Lord Cinnamon Roll. You will be allowed inside the palace because you are an immigrant and he will wish to see you before your execution. My wife and I will help you to accomplish this task. So, what do you think?"

Kellogg and Julie looked at Maneral as if he were crazy. There was no way they were going to risk their lives to accomplish some silly revolution for a bunch of cinnamon sticks.

Julie started, "There is no way possible that Kellogg and I will even consider-"

"No," interrupted Kellogg, "We must. It will be for the better of all of the citizens."

Julie pulled Kellogg aside and quietly scolded him, "What! Are you joking! There is no way I am putting my life on the line for a bunch of cinnamon sticks. They are food! We eat them, not die for them!"

"Yes," responded Kellogg, "but Lord Cinnamon Roll knows a way home. He must sell the Pop-Tarts to Earth so he will know how to get us home."

"Ooh!" responded Julie.

"O.K." Julie spoke, "We'll do it!"

That night Kellogg did not sleep very well. He was very nervous for the next day. The plan had been laid out by Maneral and kept running through his head. After breakfast, thought Kellogg, Maneral will tell the French Toastifers that he has caught illegal immigrants. The French Toastifers will arrest us and take us to Lord Cinnamon Roll. Once there Julie and I will plead for help and allowance through the portal that will send us home. I remember, thought Kellogg, and I can do this.

The morning came quickly. To Kellogg's surprise they had cereal for breakfast. The cereal was not anything he had seen before, but it was indeed cereal with milk. It was nice to have a meal he was familiar with.

The time finally came. Maneral called the French Toastifers and they were at the house within five minutes. French Toastifers were obviously not to be messed with; they were much bigger than Julie, Kellogg, and Maneral and boasted large flamethrowers that would burn anything on contact.

Julie and Kellogg were lead through the streets. It was a long journey until they finally reached the most extravagant building they had ever scene. It was a tall castle lined with what seemed to be diamonds. Julie and Kellogg were in awe of the building, and got distracted of the fact that they were about to be led in to these massive structures.

The inside of the building was just as extravagant as the outside. The walls were lined with great paintings. Statues filled the rooms, and Apple Cinnaguards seemed to be posted at every door. The castle was even larger than it had seemed, and it took a good five minutes to finally get to the great hall. They reached large doors that had giant cinnamon rolls encrusted in them. The doors opened, and they were slowly led into the Thrown Room.

At the end of the room in a large golden chair sat Lord Cinnamon Roll. He was, as his name implied, a giant cinnamon roll. He sat with two Apple Cinnaguards on either side, and held a great scepter that spewed flames. Kellogg was very nervous and was led to the thrown. The French Toastifers threw both him and Julie to the ground.

"Who are you?" boomed the voice of the great Lord Cinnamon Roll.

"My name is Kellogg your majesty." Responded Kellogg in a week voice.

"What kind of immigrant are you? From what land?" questioned Lord Cinnamon Roll.

"I," responded Kellogg digging all the courage he had, "am a human from the United States of America."

"Human," responded Lord Cinnamon Roll, "release him at once! I am very sorry for your arrest. Tell me human Kellogg, do you seek the way home?"

"Yes," responded Kellogg, "both of us humans seek a way back to our home."

Lord Cinnamon Roll's voice boomed like thunder, "Very well humans. I will send you home. Your kind is much respected here in my world; it is to you humans I sell my products. Up in the highest tower you will find the portal leading to Earth. All you must do is speak into the portal which city and location you wish to depart to, and the portal will lead you there."

"Thank you most gratefully your majesty. Lord Cinnamon Roll," inquired Kellogg, "may I see your scepter?"

"Why of course dear human." Responded Lord Cinnamon Roll.

Kellogg took the scepter from Lord Cinnamon Roll's hands. It was somewhat heavy and had buttons most obviously placed for the operation of the device.

"Now!" Kellogg shouted.

Right at that moment, Maneral burst into the thrown room. Behind him were the eight dead French Toastifers and the seven dead Apple Cinnaguards. Lord Cinnamon Roll whaled in confusion.

"Kellogg, do it now!" shouted Maneral.

Kellogg, holding the gold scepter high pointed it directly at Lord Cinnamon Roll. Summoning all the audacity he had, Kellogg pushed one of the diamond buttons located on the scepter. Fire spurred from the end of the scepter and engulfed Lord Cinnamon Roll instantaneously. Finally, the dictator was vanquished.

The Apple Cinnaguards in the room immediately surrendered to the great assassin of Lord Cinnamon Roll.

"Come Kellogg and Julie," Maneral shouted blissfully, "come and celebrate with me! You are a hero!"

Kellogg looked to Julie, and knew what they both wished.

"I'm sorry Maneral, but we both just want to go home." Returned Kellogg.

"Are you sure?" asked Maneral

"Yes." Kellogg responded.

"Guards," summoned Maneral, "take this great patriot to the highest room in the tallest tower. He wished to depart."

The Apple Cinnaguards directed Kellogg and Julie up the long stairs to the portal room. Kellogg spoke his address into the portal and prepared to return home. Hand in hand, Kellogg and Julie leaped into the portal and were transferred home. As they landed in the hallway, they looked around to shout about their return.

As they went into Kellogg's room they saw that the time and date were just as before they had left. They had accomplished the entire task within less than a second.

"Well," said Kellogg, "what a study session!"

"Yea," responded Julie, "but I must say, I am really going to miss those brown cinnamon sugar Pop-Tarts!"

"So will I." responded Kellogg, and Julie and Kellogg went on to study and pass their class. Of course, no one believed their story, so it was an event only they could hold as truth. However, more people became skeptical when the production of brown sugar cinnamon Pop-Tarts was stopped, but it was deemed as simple coincidence. But, as stated by a famous philosopher, "there is no so thing as coincidence."

The End


End file.
